


Between the Lines

by upthenorthmountain (aw264641)



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Kristanna, Modern AU, still british
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-10-15 09:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10553848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aw264641/pseuds/upthenorthmountain





	1. Prologue

To:  [ kristoff.bjorgman@gmail.com ](mailto:kristoff.bjorgman@gmail.com)

From:  [ sjones@arendellepub.co.uk ](mailto:sjones@arendellepub.co.uk)

 

Subj: Good news!!

 

Hi Kris!! Got some great news for you, we’ve decided to tour Fire & Ice after all! I know I said funds were a little tight but we’ve found a way to make it work. If we pair you with another author then it makes it simpler on our end and you can travel together (we will pay mileage for one car). Anna Rendell (I don’t know if you know her??) has a new one coming out the day before yours so you can trundle around the country together. Will send you more info when I have it

 

Sue xx

  
  
  


To:  [ sjones@arendellepub.co.uk ](mailto:sjones@arendellepub.co.uk)

From:  [ kristoff.bjorgman@gmail.com ](mailto:kristoff.bjorgman@gmail.com)

 

Subj: Re: Good news!!

 

Sue,

 

I don’t know Anna Rendell but I looked her up - are you sure this is a good idea? Our books are pretty much complete opposites.

  
  
  


To:  [ kristoff.bjorgman@gmail.com ](mailto:kristoff.bjorgman@gmail.com)

From:  [ sjones@arendellepub.co.uk ](mailto:sjones@arendellepub.co.uk)

 

Subj: Re: Re: Good news!!

  
Kris, don’t worry about that, we’ll do you at 2pm and her at 4pm, something like that. The bookshops will sort it out!! I haven’t met Anna, Carol deals with her, but she says she’s lovely, really chatty and friendly, I’m sure you’ll get on like a house on fire!! Current plan is to do pairs of towns each weekend, one each day, we’ll put you up somewhere the Saturday night. No one comes to these things during the week anyway.  Milton Keynes & Northampton first by the look of it.


	2. Chapter 1 - Milton Keynes & Northampton

One Saturday in early March Kristoff Bjorgman - best-selling author of the Detective Olaf Snøvenn series - found himself pulling up outside a small modern block of flats, about ten miles from his own home. He’d volunteered to drive first, so he was here to collect this Anna Rendell woman so that they could drive to Milton Keynes, of all places. Tonight they were staying at the Milton Keynes Travel Tavern, then tomorrow to Northampton, then home. 

 

He looked at his watch. Right, better go and fetch her.

 

The intercom buzzed and then there was the clatter of someone fumbling with the handset.

“Hello?”

“Ah, hi, is that Anna Rendell?”

“Yes, are you Chris Bergman?”

“Kristoff Bjorgman.”

“Oh, sorry! Come up! No, wait, I’ll come down, wait there.”

 

The front door was shouldered open a couple of minutes later by a pretty young woman with long red hair. She was carrying a large cardboard box. “Hi! Great to meet you! Can I put this in your boot?”

He took the box from her automatically. “I’ll do it - don’t you own a suitcase?”

“Of course, it’s upstairs - I’ll just fetch it. That one’s other stuff. Won’t be a sec, hang on, be right back -” and she ran back off and up the stairs behind her.

 

While he was rearranging the boot of his car she appeared beside him, with a pink case. “This is my actual overnight bag, with my clothes and things - the box is for the bookshop. While we’re at the bookshop.”

“Won’t they have the books there?”

“Yes, of course, but this is - hang on.” She reached past him and pulled the top of the box open. “Colouring sheets, bookmarks - aren’t they cute, these ones are fairy wands and these ones are unicorn horns - and I had some wordsearches but I think they’re all gone - and fairy biscuits.” She opened the cake tin and showed him a pile of star-shaped biscuits covered in pink icing and silver sprinkles. “I only put the bunting up if there’s a good place for it.”

“...huh.”

“I like to think of it as being like a party, you know?”

 

Kristoff finished stowing everything in the back and they took their seats in the car. “I guess you don’t get many kids at your things, normally,” Anna said.

“I think there was one, once.”

Anna laughed. “It’s so funny they put us together, isn’t it? Our audiences couldn’t be more different.”

“That’s what I said to Sue.”

“As long as they don’t get us mixed up. It’s probably just because we live near each other so they thought we could travel together.”

“Probably.”

 

They drove along in silence for a bit. “Shall I put the radio on?” Anna said.

“Why?”

She opened and shut her mouth a couple of times. “Because music is nice? But I suppose we don’t have to. How long until we get there?”

He glanced at the satnav. “Hour and a half, maybe.”

“OK.” Anna looked out of the window for a moment. “I like your car. I feel very high up. I’m not so big on leather seats, though, I feel like I’m sliding about and if you wear a skirt, you know, your legs stick….but it’s comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

“And so clean! I shall have to get mine valeted before I let you in it. If you’ll fit, it’s a Corsa. And you’re so tall.”

“Mmm.”

“Do you have any children?”

“No. I live alone.”

“As all mystery authors should! I don’t either. I mean, I don’t have any children, I do live alone...I love kids though. Well, you probably guessed.”

“Yeah, I figured.” 

“I’d love to have a daughter one day….though knowing my luck she’d probably hate my books, ha.”

“My niece is seven,” Kristoff found himself volunteering. “I don’t know if she reads your books but she loves all that fairy and unicorn stuff.”

“Really? How lovely - I’ll sign her one if you want.”

“I think we’re up their way in a couple of weeks, my sister said they’d come to the signings.”

“Oh, great! That’ll be nice.”

 

Kristoff remembered when he’d told his sister who he was travelling with. Katja had immediately looked her up online, and he’d been treated to a round of  _ she’s so pretty! Is she single? _ Well, now he could answer that question, but he didn’t think his sister should buy a hat just yet. Lord this woman could talk. She was still talking.

 

“It’s nice to get out of the city, isn’t it? Even on the motorway - is this a motorway or just a dual carriageway? Dual carriageway. The views are good, though - sheep! Did you see the sheep? - I like taking the train usually but it’s nice to be chauffeured. On my first tour I had a driver but I think those days are over! That was mainly in London, anyway.”

“Don’t you want to drive next time?”

“Where’s next time? Brighton? Oh, I love Brighton! You could go to the seaside any time, but you never do, do you? We could have fish and chips on the pier. Where are we eating tonight?”

“No idea. You choose.”

 

\----

 

Waterstones in the shopping centre in Milton Keynes had a big blackboard by the front door, headed AUTHOR EVENTS. And  Kristoff was up first (KRISTOFF BJORGMAN - FIRE & ICE - READING AND Q&A 2PM - SIGNING 2:30PM, and the author photo he’d never liked but his mother loved (‘You look so  _ distinguished _ ’)).

 

He hated this part. The signing was okay, having the same conversation several times in a row but with just one person at a time, he could do that. Having to stand at the front and talk to an audience was torture.

 

Well, such audience as there was. Four people, and then Anna, who had insisted on joining in. More people would probably actually be better as then he wouldn’t feel obliged to make eye contact with them each in turn.

 

No sooner had the last mystery fan shuffled away with his signed copy than the bookshop started rearranging the chairs (moving them further back - for the parents, Anna explained), setting out colouring sheets, putting up bunting. Anna flitted about helping them, laughing and chatting and making all the staff her new best friends. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself.

 

She even arranged the biscuits nicely on a plate. They were quite good.

 

\----

 

“‘I’m glad to see you, girls,’ Queen Merryhooves said. ‘Some very odd things have been happening here in the Sparkle Realm.’ ‘Is it Emperor Sinistro?’ Ruby asked. She remembered all the times they had helped Queen Merryhooves stop Emperor Sinistro and his naughty mischief monkeys from causing trouble in the Sparkle Realm. But the Queen shook her head and her golden horn shimmered in the sunlight. ‘I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t know who it could be!’” Anna looked up and smiled at her audience, a semi-circle of little girls, watching her with rapt attention. She continued. “The sisters looked at each other. ‘What sort of odd things?’ Pearl asked…”

 

Kristoff leant against the back wall. Why was he listening to this nonsense? He should have slipped out and got a coffee or something, but he had been a little curious, and now he was trapped - it would look rude to leave in the middle. Half the parents in the chairs at the back of the room were on their phones and the other half were staring into space, but standing he was more visible and felt like he had to pay attention. Tomorrow he’d make a sharper exit.

 

“Well!” Anna said, closing the book. She was sat cross-legged on a large cushion, with the children sat around her. “Did you all like that?”

“Then what happened?” a little girl with blonde pigtails said.

“Oh, I don’t have time to read it all now, I’m afraid, sweetheart.”

“But I want to know what happens.”

“It was pixies,” an older girl next to her said. “The title is The Puzzling Pixies so it’s going to be about pixies.”

Anna laughed. “You worked it out! Clever you.”

“I don’t read your books any more,” the older girl explained. “I used to but I’m bigger now.  _ My _ favourite author is Jacqueline Wilson. I’m just here because Poppy wanted to come. She’s my little sister.”

“Well, that’s nice, to do things with your sister.”

“Sisterhood is the strongest magic!” the little girl exclaimed. Anna laughed again. “That’s true! Well, I’m glad you’re all here. Did anyone have anything else they wanted to ask me about? About any of the stories? Not just this one.”

 

There was silence for a moment. Then another little girl, on the other side of the circle, put her hand up hesitantly. “Yes, flower?”

“Why….”

“Yes?”

“Why does Queen Merryhooves have a GOLD horn but the other unicorns have SILVER horns?”

“Because she’s the Queen, my darling. Unicorns don’t wear crowns, so she has a golden horn instead to show she’s the Queen.”

“Oh...”

 

“That’s in the  _ first  _ book,” the older girl said firmly. “Queen Merryhooves has her conoration and the fairies make her horn gold with magic because she’s queen now.”

“They do. Well remembered.”

“And Ruby and Pearl have ice cream,” another child volunteered. 

“They do! What’s  _ your _ favourite flavour of ice cream?”

 

\-----

 

“Did I hear one little girl tell you her mum said they weren’t buying the book today, they were going to get it from the library?”

Anna laughed and put down her menu. “Yes. Don’t worry, I’ve heard that one before, I don’t take it personally. Probably half the people at yours were thinking that even if they didn’t say it.”

“True.”

“She’ll read it, anyway. That’s why you write, isn’t it? To be read.”

“The sales are nice.”

“Well, of course.”

 

The waitress came over and took their order. Anna had found a Zizzi that was walking distance from the hotel (“How about Italian? I feel like pizza, how about you? Or they do pasta and other things as well, is that okay?” He really hadn’t cared).

 

“So what do you read?” Kristoff asked.

Anna tilted her head to one side. “What do you think I read?”

“I don’t know. Fantasy, I guess. Romance. Austen.”

Anna nodded. “Not far out. Not super into fantasy but I read it, mainly modern stuff. Not Mills & Boon or bodice-rippers but I  _ do _ like love stories. ‘Women’s fiction’ because men’s fiction is just fiction….and yes, Austen. And I think  _ you  _ read a lot of mysteries.”

“Because I write them?”

“Yes - and I think you like puzzles. I read your book. It’s very well put-together.”

“Thank you. Yeah, I guess I like working out how all the pieces of the story go together. It’s satisfying.”

“Did you like mine?” Then she burst out laughing. “Your face! It’s okay, I know you haven’t read it.”

“I’m sorry - I was going to, but -”

“But then you remembered you’re an adult man and not a seven-year-old girl. It’s okay. Not everything is for everyone. I would never have picked yours up if we weren’t doing this tour together.”

“Well, thanks for helping my numbers.”

“Oh, I didn't buy it, I got it out of the library.”

 

\-----

 

His hotel room seemed very quiet that evening.

 

\-----

 

On the drive to Northampton Kristoff relented and let Anna put the radio on. It did stop her chatter to a certain degree, but he hadn’t anticipated it would lead to quite so much singing.

 

Anna found the local station, and it played a lot of songs that she knew, and she sang along to all of them. If she wasn’t sure of the words she guessed, and if she didn’t know them at all she hummed. She even sang along to the station jingle (“This - is - HEART!”). Fortunately her voice was fairly good, and it only took half an hour or so for her to stop encouraging him to sing as well.

 

Maybe for next week he’d bring her a big bag of toffee. Or a gag.

 

The day gradually got worse. There was nowhere to park in Northampton and they ended up with a ten-minute walk to the bookshop, Kristoff carrying Anna’s big box of colouring pages and bunting (she insisted on carrying the biscuit tin). Only two people turned up for his reading, and twenty-seven - counting children and adults - to Anna’s. And on the walk back to the car afterwards it started raining and didn’t stop all the way home.

 

It was properly dark by the time he left Anna, her box and her little pink suitcase outside her flat. She invited him in for a cup of tea but Kristoff couldn’t take one more minute of someone talking without his head exploding so he declined as politely as he could manage and drove himself home.

 

At the end of the road his phone pinged and he checked it at the traffic light.

 

_ thanks so much for doing all the driving this weekend!!  _

_ my turn next time, see you soon _

_ Anna x _


	3. Chapter 2 - Brighton and Portsmouth

I mean, Anna hadn’t really thought about it, but if she _had_ , she’d have imagined Kristoff living somewhere - neater. White walls and clear surfaces, minimalist in a Scandi sort of way. But the address she’d been given was clearly a farm cottage, though it didn’t look like it was part of a farm any more. It was old, though, with weathered brickwork and a tangle of roses growing up one wall. She parked on the gravel drive and crunched round to the door.

 

There was a heavy iron knocker instead of a bell. It made a deep, resonant sound and Anna liked it so much she did it again. Why had she let Elsa talk her into buying that flat? Who cared about good investments when you could have a house with a proper door knocker that made a proper -

 

The door was wrenched open. “I heard you the first time - oh, hi Anna.”

“I liked the noise it made,” she said, then felt a bit stupid and childish. “And hi. Um. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, sure,” he said. “Let me just lock up. Come in.”

 

The hall _was_ painted white, but the floorboards were satisfyingly old and worn and there were pictures on the walls. Kristoff had disappeared into a back room, and Anna let herself wander forward after him. To her left there was a doorway through into a living room - a couple of big squidgy armchairs faced a brick fireplace, and bookshelves lined the opposite wall. In front of her there was a kitchen, but she only got a glimpse of the cream Aga and tiled floor before he was coming back towards her carrying his suitcase.

 

“OK. Let’s go.”

“I love your house!”

“Thanks.” He locked the front door and they went over to her car.

“It’s so _cosy_.”

“Thanks. Will this fit in the boot with your things?”

“If it doesn’t it’ll go on the back seat - no, I’m sure you can squash it in. Just move my stuff up. There you go. Oh, the handle to adjust the seat is on the left. Did you get the email about the radio thing?”

He pulled a face. “Yes, of course.”

“You don’t like doing radio?”

“Who does? No, wait, you’re about to tell me that you do.”

“It’s just like a lovely chat! And it’s great publicity!”

“They just need to fill up their airtime, and the only person listening will be my mother, after I spent an hour on the phone last night explaining how she could listen to BBC Southern Counties when she’s not actually in said southern counties.”

“On the internet?”

“Yes. Essentially, yes.”

 

Anna reset her satnav and picked up her ipod, which was connected to the car stereo. “If I’m driving, I choose the music,” she told Kristoff, and he pulled a face. Right, for that he got Walking on Sunshine, full volume, straight off the bat.

 

* * *

 

“Well, and as promised I’ve been joined by two very different authors who both have new books out, and who are both going to be in Brighton this afternoon - Kristoff Bjorgman, who is best-known for the Detective Olaf Snøvenn series -”

“Hello.”

“- and Anna Rendell, who is responsible for the Sparkle Sisters series -”

“Hello!”

“- that I must say, Anna, my daughter _loves_.”

“Oh, I’m glad to hear it!”

 

And the conversation went from there, and once the interview was over and they were walking to the car Anna realised she’d hardly let Kristoff talk at all. She apologised and he smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Carol will tell me off.”

“I’m sure she won’t. She’s met you, I’m sure she expected this to happen.”

“I don’t talk _all_ the time.”

“The evidence suggests otherwise.”

“I don’t talk when I’m sleeping. Usually. Okay, I’ve been told I sometimes talk when I’m sleeping.”

 

They reached the car and Kristoff shrugged off his jacket before getting in. Anna watched him, thoughtfully. Carol had asked her if she was okay with touring with one of their male authors, and Anna had said “Only if he’s hot and single.” It had been meant as a joke but maybe she should send Carol a fruit basket or something.

 

“Anna.”

“Hmm? Oh…” She was meant to be driving. Right. Get in the car, Anna, and stop being ridiculous.

 

* * *

 

The evening was clear and bright, and they ate fish and chips on the prom and watched the sun set.

 

“So why did you become a writer?” Anna asked.

“So I can spend all day by myself not talking to anyone.”

“That’s a good thing?”

“Yes. Until I actually write the book and they insist I go out and talk to everyone about it.”

“Well, if you want to sell any…”

“I know.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Anna said after a moment. “I know I talk a lot. Did you do your last tour by yourself?”

“Pretty much.”

“I like having someone to talk to. I get lonely otherwise. And I don’t like eating by myself.”

“It's not so bad. Usually I take a book.”

“What did you do before? Before you wrote full-time.”

“I worked in IT. Until a year or so ago. When I sold some TV rights.”

“Ooh! They're going to make a TV series?”

“Like a mini-series I think - when they get round to it. ITV.”

“Wow! Well done you.”

“Thanks. What did you do before?”

Anna looked away. “Um, I didn't.”

“What do you mean?”

“I've never had a job. I have a trust fund instead. And my parents died when I was seventeen and left me some money. Quite a lot of money. So yeah.”

“Wow. I mean - I'm sorry. About your parents.”

“Thanks.”

 

They ate in silence for a moment, then Kristoff said “Does your sister live near you? I'm assuming you have a sister.”

Anna smiled. “Yeah, I do. And no, she lives in NYC. She's not a layabout like me, she works in finance.”

“Best-selling author is hardly a layabout.”

“Well, not now I guess. I was for a while. But it gets boring, I needed something to _do_ , you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I mean, I can imagine.”

“And you have a sister? Any brothers?”

“No, and two sisters. Both older than me. One lives in Leamington Spa and the other in London.”

“Which one has the niece? Daughter. Whatever.”

“The Leamington one. Katja. And my niece is Holly, she's seven.”

“That's so nice! I mean it. My sister is the only family I have. And I only get to see her a couple of times a year.”

 

They finished their dinner. “I’m glad it’s not a sandy beach,” Kristoff said, folding up his chip paper neatly.

“Why’s that?”

“Because if it was, I have a feeling you’d be trying to persuade me to build a sandcastle right now.”

Anna laughed. “Oh, I would not be trying! I would be _succeeding_.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hmm.” She rolled her paper into a ball and stood to put it in the litter bin. “What now? Fancy the Dodgems?”

“No.”

“Let's go down and throw stones in the sea.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. Come on.”

“The sea is already full of stones,” he said, but he followed her down the steps and onto the pebbled beach.

“It's okay. I know you're just worried I'll show you up.”

“What?”

“It's fine if you can't throw as far as me, I won't think any less of you.”

 

He put his hands in his pockets and looked at her. She could tell he was trying not to smile. “Five minutes,” she said. “Then I'll let you go back to the hotel.”

“It'll be dark by then, anyway.”

 

It was already fairly dark. Dark enough that it was hard to see whose pebbles flew furthest, and in order to see - and to gain a competitive edge - Anna stepped further forward and accidentally put a foot in the sea. She jumped back, shrieking.

“What? What is it?”

“My FOOT is WET.”

“Water will do that.” He picked up another stone, but as he was composing himself to throw it Anna gave him a sharp shove on the back and he stumbled into an incoming wave.

 

“ _Right_ ,” he said, and she ran away and up the beach, laughing; but it was harder than she thought to run up the slope of pebbles and eventually she stopped, panting. Kristoff had stopped a couple of feet away, and she wondered what he would have done if he had caught her. “That wasn't fair,” he said. “Now I have _two_ wet feet.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you're not.”

 

They trudged up the beach together, and along the promenade.

“Seriously, Anna, I didn’t bring any other shoes.”

“I’m sorry. I am, really. I have spare shoes, you could borrow them.”

Her earnest face made him smile. “Look,” he said, and stopped her. He put his foot next to hers and she had to laugh at the size difference. “Is it true,” she asked, “Is it true what they say about men with big feet?”

 

Kristoff said nothing for a moment and Anna felt herself blushing. Why had she said that? She always said the first thing that popped into her head and made everything awkward. But then he replied as he started walking again.

“Yes,” he said. “It is absolutely true that men with big feet _do_ have to wear big shoes.”

“Which is why they can’t fit a spare pair in their suitcase.”

“Exactly. Why do you need two pairs of shoes to go away overnight?”

“They match my outfit. I had different pairs last week, I’m insulted that you didn’t notice.”

“I wasn’t looking at your feet.”

 _What were you looking at?_ she thought, but managed to bite it back this time.

 

“Portsmouth tomorrow,” she said, “I’ve not been there before.”

“I have, but not for years. It’s not really a seaside town, it’s a port. And a Navy town.”

“Oh, I DO like to be beside the seaside -”

“Please don’t sing, people are staring.”

 

* * *

 

They didn’t even see the sea again after leaving Brighton.

“Another day, another Waterstones,” Kristoff said as they walked in, but Anna didn’t mind. “Different people,” she said. “That’s why we’re here, for the people.”

“Sometimes it feels like the same people.”

“And we’re only on our second weekend. How many do we have?”

“Seven. How do you not know that?”

“I _do_ , I have it written down, I just didn’t know off the top of my head.”

“Five more after today. Eleven more times I have to read.”

“Is it that bad? Do you want to swap?”

“What?”

“I’ll read yours and you read mine.”

He laughed. “Not yet. Ask me again in a couple of weeks.”


	4. Chapter 3 - Reading and Oxford

“Excuse me. You.”

Kristoff turned from where he was arranging his things for the reading. “Yes?”

“I’m looking for Anna Rendell, is she here?”

“She’s on at four.”

The other man tutted exasperatedly. “I’m not here to hear her talk about unicorn magic shit. I’m her boyfriend. Is she here or not?”

 

Boyfriend. Had Anna mentioned a boyfriend? He was definitely, 100% certain that that was something he would have remembered.

“Uh, hi,” he said. “I think she said something about going to Starbucks, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon, she usually -”  _ listens to me read _ , Kristoff nearly said, but stopped himself - “hangs around the bookshop.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” the other man said, and turned on his heel and walked off.

 

“You’re welcome,” Kristoff muttered to himself. Well, that had been...weird.

 

* * *

 

Anna got back at five to two. “Here I am!” she said cheerfully. “I couldn't miss your reading in Reading. Ha! Anyway this one is yours,” and she handed him a takeaway coffee.  “And I got a cake for me then I felt bad I didn't get you one but probably I can cut it in half -”

“Thank you. And it's okay, you eat the cake.”

“I will!”

“And your boyfriend was here looking for you a few minutes ago, I'm not sure where he went -”

“What? My  _ boyfriend? _ Henry was here?”

“He didn't say his name.”

“Chestnut hair, about so tall, very shiny shoes?”

“Yeah, that was him.”

Anna sighed. “Oh, fiddlesticks. Right, I'd better - hang on. Sorry. I just need to call -”

 

And then she was gone, fumbling with her coffee and her cake and her phone.

 

* * *

 

_ So you thought the pretty girl was flirting with you, did you? You thought she  _ liked  _ you.  _

 

Kristoff told his brain to shut up. Okay, all right, he had maybe thought that, a little bit. But now that he knew her he could see that Anna would probably be that friendly and bubbly and pleasant with anyone. It wasn't personal. 

 

Anna had missed his reading after all. She hadn't come back to the bookshop until quarter to four, then there had been the rush of getting everything ready for her reading, then there were children everywhere. Kristoff hardly had a chance to talk to her, and he spent the time rehearsing the words ‘you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend’ in his head, trying to make it sound conversational rather than accusatory.

 

But as soon as the last little girl had left, clutching her signed book and colouring sheet, Anna came up to him. 

“Kristoff, I’m so sorry, but I said I’d have dinner with Henry tonight - is that okay?”

“Of course, sure.”

“You said you like eating by yourself, right? I’m so sorry, but, you know…”

“I’ll be fine. Have a nice time.”

“OK. Okay, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess. Oh, can I put my things in your car?”

“Sure, leave them here and I’ll do it.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow,” and she was gone.

 

* * *

 

Kristoff didn’t know if she’d come back to the hotel that evening. They’d been able to check in before going to the bookshop so he knew her room was next to his, and he knew she’d left her suitcase there, though he supposed she might have come back for it. In the morning he’d have to ring her and find out where she was so that he could drive them to Oxford, but where she spent the night was none of his business.

 

He really did need to get out more and meet more people, this was ridiculous.

 

But seriously, with the volume of words that came out of Anna’s mouth, how had ‘boyfriend’ not been one of them?

 

There were so many people coming and going, doors opening and shutting, footsteps in the corridor. He’d never be able to tell if Anna was one of them, not that he was listening for her, because he was not.

 

* * *

 

“Good morning!”

A plate and mug were put down, the other chair at his breakfast table was pulled out and then Anna was sitting opposite him, smiling. “Morning,” Kristoff said. “Good night? I mean, good evening?

“Mm?” she pulled a face. “It was alright, I think he might finally have got the message…where did you eat?”

“Here, they do a buffet thing.”

“God, really?” She picked up her croissant and tapped it against her plate. “I hope it was better than their breakfast.”

“It was - certainly food.”

“You should put that on Trip Advisor. ‘The restaurant certainly serves food’ - oh, wait, I forgot to get some juice, be right back.”

 

Wait, what had she said? He’d finally got the message? What message?

 

“What message?” he said when Anna sat back down.

“Hmm? What?” she stared at him for a minute, then said “Oh! Yeah. Henry.” She sighed. “Why are some men like that, god.”

“Like what?”

“We went out a few times, like a month or two ago? But he wasn’t, I don’t know. Not for me. But he kept calling me and pestering me and I saw him earlier in the week.” She broke open her croissant and started applying copious amounts of Nutella. “Which apparently made him decide that he was my boyfriend, even though I definitely did not say that.”

“I didn’t think you’d mentioned a boyfriend.”

“Well, no, last week I hadn’t even seen him in ages - but, anyway, like I said, I think he’s got the message now. I hate having to actually put my foot down, you know? Why can’t people take a hint so I don’t have to straight up say, I don’t want to see you again, ever, at all. Mm.” She took a bite of her croissant. “This is why I don’t buy Nutella! I’d just eat it all in one go.”

 

“I’m glad,” Kristoff said. “I’m glad he’s not your boyfriend.”

Anna raised her eyebrows.

“I mean,” he continued hurriedly, “because he seemed like a bit of a dick.”

“You know when you meet someone, and they seem really nice, then you realise that was just their company personality and they’re actually completely different?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“That’s why I liked when I met you. You were kinda grumpy and annoyed with me so I knew you weren’t putting it on.”

“I was not grumpy and annoyed -”

“If you say so. But it’s okay. I’m pretty annoying. But you’re warming to me, I can tell.”  She grinned at him, and turned back to her breakfast.


	5. Chapter 4 - Coventry and Birmingham

“Don’t be  _ silly _ , Elsa.”

“You’ve said his name about ten times and we’ve barely been talking five minutes.”

“I don’t see many people, that’s all. I’ve been writing during the week.”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s mermaids, this one. You know, I realised I hadn’t used mermaids, I thought about it when I was in Brighton with Kristoff and we were at the seafront - STOP LAUGHING.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When a woman and a little girl took seats for Kristoff’s reading, Anna wondered if she should go over and check that they had arrived at the correct time. But as soon as Kristoff saw them he went straight over, hugged the child and kissed the woman on the cheek. 

 

After a couple of minutes of conversation he looked around and beckoned Anna over. “Anna, this is my sister, Katja, and my niece Holly.”

“Pleased to meet you!”

“And you!” Katja said. “I was just saying to Kris, you must both come to ours for dinner tonight.”

“Oh! How nice! Of course, I’d love to.”

 

The bookshop manager behind them cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m on,” Kristoff said. “Talk to you later.” He hesitated. “Do you have to listen to me?”

“I didn’t park in the centre of Coventry on a Saturday to NOT listen to you. And I’ve prepared some questions.”

“Lovely.”

“And we want to see Anna, too, of course.”

“Yes!” said Holly.

“Uncle Kris first, though,” Katja told her daughter.

“Oh, o _ kay _ .”

 

* * *

 

Kristoff leant against the bookshop wall and watched Anna read, as he always did. She’d left her hair down, and every time she looked down at her book it swung forward and got in her way; every time she tossed her head to throw it back over her shoulder she caught his eye for a split-second. She’d nearly lost her place twice already.

 

When Anna looked up properly at the end of the reading, she noticed Kristoff’s sister in the first row of seats. She was watching her brother watching Anna, smiling to herself. Anna quickly put her book down and asked the children if any of them had any questions.

 

* * *

 

It was Anna’s turn to drive this weekend, so she let Kristoff direct her through the maze of a housing estate where Katja and her family lived. Anna was introduced to Katja’s husband, and Holly’s little brother who was only four and not yet much of a reader; then Holly insisted on Anna coming upstairs to admire her bedroom wallpaper and bookshelves.

 

When they came back downstairs, Anna found the other grown-ups in the kitchen. Katja was putting something in the oven and saying “- well, what are you going to do about it?” to her brother, who replied “You’re as bad as Mum -” before stopping guiltily at Anna’s entrance. 

 

Katja looked up. “Oh! Anna, you escaped. Can I get you a drink?”

“Just a small one, thanks, I’m driving.”

“Kris, did Mum tell you she saw Lindsay the other day?” Katja said as she poured. “Ran into her in town and then they had a coffee. She’s still single!”

“Yeah, she said. And I’m ignoring that last part.”

“Who’s Lindsay?” Anna asked, a bit too quickly. She didn’t care, why would she care? She was just making conversation.

“My ex-girlfriend,” Kristoff said. “We broke up a year ago and  _ some people _ still won’t let it go.”

“She was lovely!” Katja said.”I miss her. Mum’s still a bit cross with him for not marrying her,” she added to Anna. Kristoff sighed.

“I’m still not going to marry someone just because Mum thinks they’d make a good daughter-in-law,” he said. “But then it took Mum about six months to accept we’d actually broken up.”

“Because you were still so friendly with each other,” Katja said.

“Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

“Because that’s not how it goes for anyone else? Oh, and because she doesn’t think you broke up for a good reason.”

“It had run its course. We had a good three years, it wasn’t a failure just because Mum didn’t get to wear her wedding hat.” He picked up his drink. “And that’s enough, okay? I’m sick of rehashing it.”

“Sorry.”

 

“What’s for dinner?” Anna said.

 

* * *

 

Anna drove them back to the hotel.

 

“I read your book,” Kristoff said, once they were on the main road.

“You did?”

“Yes, I was - curious. And I’ve heard the first chapter a few times now, I wanted to know how it ends.”

Anna laughed. “Fair enough. And?”

“It was surprisingly well-plotted. I mean - ”

“- you mean you’re surprised to find I can actually write.”

“No, I….”

“I’m having that put on the back of the next edition. ‘Surprisingly well-plotted’, Kristoff Bjorgman, author of Fire & Ice, in which three people get horribly murdered.”

“...sorry.”

“‘Not as long as some books’. ‘More than tolerable.’”

“I said sorry.”

“It’s okay - I get it a lot. No one takes my writing seriously. It’s for kids - worse than that, it’s for  _ girls _ . Everyone thinks they could do it. But it’s actually a very crowded market. You have to be good to get anywhere. And you have to write something the parents want to read, too, or they won’t buy them.”

 

There was silence for a moment. “I couldn’t write what you do,” Kristoff said.

“I could write yours,” Anna said airily. “Start at the end and work backwards, right?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Watch me.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “The leader of the Council of Fairies has been horribly murdered, found hacked to pieces in the Sunlit Meadow - “

“Steady on - “

“- and Queen Merryhooves asks Ruby and Pearl to help her find the culprit. So they turn to that well-known and most skilled detective, Olaf  Snøvenn, to help them -”

“- can’t they just magic up the answer?”

“Magic has to have rules and limits or there’s no fun. And no plot. And my books are  _ surprisingly  _ well-plotted.”

“Hmm. So if you start at the end, who did it?”

“Ruby.”

“What!”

“I know! What a twist! I’m a genius.”

“But why?”

“Tired of her big sister always getting the credit when she’s really the brains of the outfit.”

“That sounds a bit - psychological.”

“Just stating facts.”

 

They drove on a bit further. “I’m so glad I’m doing this tour with you,” Anna said, “because this evening was so nice. I can’t remember the last time someone made dinner for me, at their home, I mean. And your sister and her family are lovely. So thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. She’s been dying to meet you, I’m surprised she held off this long.”

 

Anna glanced at him. She wasn’t going to ask what he’d told his sister about her. She thought about what her own sister had said the day before on the telephone.

“When I see  _ my _ sister,” she said instead, “We go to the theatre or something, or a restaurant where what the food looks like is much more important than how it tastes, and we drink cocktails. And that’s fun, but tonight was so - home-y. I think you’re used to it so you don’t notice.”

“Probably. I mean, it was nice, of course it was. I’d rather the evening we had than the theatre and the cocktails, I don’t think I’ve ever drunk a cocktail.”

“You have to be a bit careful because sometimes you can’t taste the alcohol very well, and you might not realise how strong it is until you try and stand up in heels and fall over again and have to be helped out to the taxi.”

He laughed. “This is a hypothetical scenario, I’m assuming.”

“Of course, I would never do a thing like that.”

 

Kristoff tried to stretch out his legs, but couldn’t manage it very well in the small car. He looked at his watch, then across at Anna. “Penny for them.”

“Mmm? I was just thinking about how that isn’t really me, either. It’s Elsa, and it’s fun, but it isn’t me. I’d rather be home-y. With my own family, one day.”

 

“You know,” he said, looking at her, “I can see that, actually. You in some farmhouse kitchen surrounded by children and dogs, wellies all over the floor and mittens drying on the Aga, perfectly happy.”

“One day,” Anna said. “Have to find myself a man first.”


	6. Chapter 5 - Winchester and Salisbury

“You know you like her. What are you going to do about it?” Katja had said. And then started talking about Lindsay. Or was she just mentioning Lindsay in front of Anna to see what happened?

 

What  _ was _ he going to do about it? He didn't know yet. Much as he got annoyed whenever his family tried to pair him off with any woman that came into his orbit, he  _ did _ like Anna. He was crap at making a move, though. And they still had a couple of weeks of touring together. He wouldn’t do anything just yet.

 

* * *

 

They contemplated the cathedral wall.

 

“Is it the real one?” Anna asked.

“What do you mean?”

“It looks really old, is it the real one?”

“You know King Arthur and his round table is a myth, right? A story?”

“Stories can be real.” She walked over and read the sign. “Oh, it says it's 13th century - that's still pretty old.”

“We need to get back to the bookshop.”

“I know. But I bet you didn't think you'd see King Arthur's actual Round Table today, did you?”

“It's  _ not  _ -” He stopped. “It's not nice to wind people up.”

Anna grinned at him. “There's a cathedral in Salisbury as well, isn't there? But maybe one is enough for a weekend.”

“Probably.”

 

They strolled out and down the road, back towards the shops. Kristoff’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hi, Mum.”

“Happy birthday, love!”

“Thanks.”

Anna must have overheard, because her face was a picture of surprise.  _ It’s your birthday? _ she mouthed at him, and he nodded and turned slightly away. “Yeah, we were a bit early so we went and had a walk round the cathedral - heading back now though. Two. Yeah, I don’t know - OK. Speak to you later.” He hung up.

“It’s your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me! I didn’t get you a present or a card or  _ anything _ . I would have made you a cake! I can’t believe you didn’t  _ tell me _ it was your  _ birthday _ .”

“Remind me to ring my mum back after we’re finished, will you? She thought I was on at three and I don’t really have time for a chat now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

“Because - I didn’t want you to make a fuss.”

“But now I feel bad.”

“It’s fine. Really. I’m not bothered much about birthdays.”

Anna trudged along beside him, her expression thoughtful.

“Anna.”

“Mm?”

“Promise me you won’t do anything. I’m serious.”

“Define - do anything.”

“Don’t get me a present, or a card, or a cake.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, fine. You’re no fun.”

“I can be fun.”

“At least let me take you somewhere nice this evening, for dinner.”

“Alright. But no telling the waiter it’s my birthday.”

“No fun at all.”

 

* * *

 

Anna did get over-excited and tell the waiter it was Kristoff’s birthday. Fortunately, she’d not chosen a restaurant where that earnt him a song, just a sparkler in his dessert, and he could live with that. It was also walking distance from the hotel - “So you can have a drink on your  _ birthday _ ” - and afterwards they wandered back along the street.

 

“You didn’t ring your mum,” Anna said as they waited to cross the road. 

“Oh, shit. No. I’m going to be in trouble.”

“Kristoff’s in trouble with his mother,” Anna sang, walking slightly too carefully as they crossed to the opposite pavement.

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

“No I haven’t. I’m just a bit cheerful. Let’s not go back just yet, let’s do something.”

“What? I think everyone else in Winchester has gone to sleep.”

“Then come back to my room for a drink.”

“Water, I assume, since Travel Taverns don’t exactly have mini bars.”

“Hmm. Okay, wait here. Right here.” She left him, crossed the road, and disappeared into the Tesco Express. Five minutes later she came out with a carrier bag.

“Sorted.”

 

* * *

 

“Come with me.” Anna opened her hotel room door and waved Kristoff inside. He perched on the dressing table stool as she swept clothes, books and various other random items off her bed and into her suitcase, then opened her Tesco bag and held up a bottle of vodka. “Ta da!”

“Straight vodka?”

“No, wait…” She put the bottle down and took out a carton of Tesco Value orange juice. “I’ve thought of  _ everything. _ ”

 

Anna went into the bathroom and came out with the two tooth-glasses, then poured a measure of vodka into one and a double measure into the other, before topping them up with the juice.

“Why do I get twice as much?”

“It’s your birthday! And you’re twice the size of me, I can’t have you drinking me under the table.” She drank half her drink straight down. “Mm. Okay. Truth or dare.”

“What?”

“Truth or dare. Go on.”

Anna sat on the edge of the bed and grinned at him.

 

“How old are we?” Kristoff said.

“Well if you’re  _ scared, _ you can ask me first.”

“Fine. Whatever. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I don’t know. Finish your drink.”

“That’s a boring one,” she said, but she drained it and then poured herself another. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare, if  _ you _ can think of anything.”

“Of course I can! OK. During your Q&A tomorrow, you have to say the word ‘reindeer’ at least once.”

“Reindeer?”

“I was trying to think of something - nordic.”

“I don’t write about reindeer.”

Anna shrugged. “That’s your dare.”

“Fine. Truth or dare.”

“Truth, since you can only think of rubbish dares.”

“I can’t promise to think of better questions.”

“Well, try.”

“Hmm.” He swigged his drink. “This is a bit strong. OK. When’s your birthday?”

“You could’ve asked me that any time. Twenty-first of June.”

“I suppose  _ you _ expect a present.”

“Obviously.” She took Kristoff’s empty glass from him and refilled it. “Your turn, truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Why did you really break up with your girlfriend? Lindsay.”

“God, really?”

“Tell me. I’m nosy. I’m never going to meet her, what does it matter.”

He sighed. “Have you ever woken up next to someone and realised that they aren’t the person you fell in love with? They’ve changed, and you’ve changed, and you just don’t - fit the way you used to. Some people get together young and they grow together, we grew apart.”

“I’m sorry.”

He took a swig of his drink. “But everyone said we were such a great couple, and thought we were perfect together, that was what made it hard. You heard Katja! And I still get it from my mother. Jesus. She wouldn’t have me even if I wanted to, anyway. It was 100% mutual. The break-up.”

“I have never had a break-up like that. God, you’re such a  _ grown-up _ .”

“Sorry.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Sometimes...I miss having someone, you know? I sold those TV rights a couple of weeks after we broke up and my first thought was to call her, then, oh, right, I shouldn’t. That was tough.”

 

Anna stared into space for a minute. “I have an idea! Instead of truth or dare, we’ll play ridiculous lie or dare. Ask me, go on.”

“Uh - ridiculous lie or dare?”

“Ridiculous lie.”

“Um. Do you have any children?”

“Yes! I have - seventeen children.”

“What’re their names?”

“Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub, Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, Peter - is that seventeen?”

“I have no idea. I don’t think so.”

“Robbie, Gary, Mark, Howard, Jason, Violet, Hyacinth, Rose…..maybe that’s enough. I don’t know. Ridiculous lie or dare.”

“Ridiculous lie.”

“Excellent. Great. Hmm - what’s your house like inside?”

“Very gothic. Battlements and gargoyles and big oak doors. Dungeons.”

“As I suspected. Dungeons? Like Fifty Shades of Grey?” She laughed.

“EXACTLY like Fifty Shades of Grey, in fact, they filmed some of it there.” She was still giggling so he continued, “I wanted to star in it but they wouldn’t let me, said I was too handsome.”

Anna fell on her back on the bed, still laughing. “Oh god. You see! You can be fun when you try.”

“Don’t tell anyone, for god’s sake, I’ve a reputation to maintain.”

 

Anna’s laughter slowly faded. She shifted and her skirt fell to one side, exposing nearly her full leg. “Ridiculous lie,” she said.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Grey. Or brown. A grey-ish brown. The colour of boredom. Ridiculous lie or dare.”

“Dare.”

She looked at him sideways. Her hair was lying in copper waves around her face, her top was half-off one shoulder. She shifted her legs again and revealed another inch of thigh. “Kiss me.”

 

Kristoff opened his mouth but couldn’t think what he wanted to say.

“You wouldn’t have come back to my room if you didn’t want to,” Anna continued, pushing herself up on her elbows.

She was right, that was the problem. His body didn’t feel entirely under his control as he stood and took the two steps over to the bed, as he sat next to her and leaned down until his face was just above hers. Anna slipped her hand round to the back of his neck and pulled him down to close the distance between their lips.

 

He kissed her. Her response was immediate, her lips moving against his, her fingers tangling in his hair, and he didn’t resist when she pulled him down with her onto the bed. It seemed fitting, or maybe just inevitable - of course this was how the evening was going to end. He kissed her, and let himself slide a hand round her waist, pulling her against him. 

 

It wasn’t until Anna wiggled her hands round to her front and started unbuttoning his shirt that the klaxon in his head finally got his attention. He pulled his lips just far enough away from hers. “Anna. Anna, wait.”

“What?” She kept pulling at his shirt buttons.

“Anna, we’re drunk.”

“Hmm?” Half the buttons were undone now. Kristoff made a great effort and pushed himself up and away to sit on the bed next to her.

“You’re drunk,” he repeated. “We, we shouldn’t do this. I should go to my room.”

“M’not -” Anna pushed herself up on her elbows, then fell back again. “Woops,” she said vaguely. “Oh, god, you’re right. The room is going roun’ and roun’. You’re right. Fuuuuuck.” She screwed up her face. 

 

Kristoff got to his feet. He started doing up his shirt, then decided it was too fiddly and there was no point. “G’night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mmm.” She looked up at him. “Y’sure? S’already gonna be really awkward tomorrow. Might as well make it worth it.”

“Goodnight, Anna.”

“Fine. Spoilsport.”

 

He let himself out.

 

* * *

 

what time do they stop driving ballasts

serving

breakfast

 

_ 9 I think _

 

_ are you coming down for breakfast?  _

_ they’re starting to pack up _

 

_ Anna? _

 

* * *

 

“Hey.” Anna sat down at the table opposite Kristoff. It was 8:58; he’d almost given her up.

“Morning,” he said, and slid a plate and glass over to her. “They were starting to tidy up so I got you your croissant and orange juice.”

“Oh - thank you - that was thoughtful, thank you.”

 

She fiddled with the glass. He said “Anna -” at the same time as she said “Kris -” and they both stopped.

 

“No, let me,” Anna continued. “I behaved really badly last night and I want to apologise -” she held up her hand when he opened his mouth - “I got drunk and I threw myself at you and it was stupid and I am HIDEOUSLY embarrassed, oh my god, I can’t believe I did that, and I’m so sorry and I would really like it if we could forget it ever happened.”

“It’s forgotten.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t let you take all the blame, though.”

Anna pulled a face. “Let’s just forget it and not talk about it any more. At least until my painkillers have kicked in. And I need to go back upstairs in a minute, I haven’t showered yet, or packed up or anything.”

“Sure, fine.”

 

She picked up her croissant and pulled it apart. “You don’t have to do the reindeer thing.”

“Pardon?”

“That is what I said, wasn’t it? You had to say reindeer in your Q&A? It’s okay, forget it.”

“Oh, yes, right. OK.” He looked at her, poking at her breakfast. “How about yours? Are you ready to drive to Salisbury and spend an hour with a group of excitable seven-year-olds?”

 

Anna looked at him bleakly, then put her face down on her folded arms.


	7. Chapter 6 - Sheffield and Leeds

She just kept thinking about that Moment. Not when he’d kissed her - though that had been good - but when he’d leant forward and gently pushed her down onto the bed. Every time she thought about it, her stomach did a little flip. She’d quite like it if he did that again, some time. Not necessarily now. Just some time.

What a shame, then, that she’d done her usual act of RUINING EVERYTHING. This was why she always ended up actually going out with dickheads, because they were the only ones who’d put up with her. She’d met a nice, single man who seemed to enjoy her company, and they'd had a lovely time at the restaurant for his birthday meal, they really had, but now thanks to her he was probably counting down the hours until this tour was over and he wouldn't have to see her again.

_ You should be glad he's such a gentleman, _ the suspiciously Elsa-sounding voice in her head had said (she hadn’t actually told Elsa what had happened, she didn’t have to tell her everything).  _ Why would you want the kind of man who would take advantage? _

And of course she didn’t, but what she actually wanted was to go back in time and say goodnight to him at her hotel room door, and then not have spent the whole week wondering if she should text him or if he even wanted to talk to her, and today they had to drive all the way to Yorkshire together and she was driving and she was going to be late getting to his house because she had maybe been putting off leaving.

Kristoff didn’t mention her tardiness, but he had clearly been waiting for her, and came straight out as soon as she parked on his drive. Anna just saw the briefest glimpse of his hallway and tried to forget a little daydream she’d had a couple of weeks ago concerning his house, and the potential layout of his bedroom. She was an author, she liked to think about people, that was all. Whether he had a brass bedframe or a wooden one was just idle speculation that no one should read anything into.

 

* * *

 

“This is the last time you’ll have to put up with my driving, anyway,” Anna said as she drove off. “Next week is the last one and it’s your turn.”

“I thought maybe we could take the train next week, since it’s London,” Kristoff said. “Won’t be able to park and the traffic will probably be terrible. What do you think?”

“Could do.”

“I mean, I’ll drive if you want.”

“No, no, you’re right. The train will be easier.”

“Last one next week, eh,” he said. “This has actually gone quite quick. I wonder if it sold many books. To people who wouldn’t have bought them anyway.”

“Who knows. It’s been fun, though.”

“Has it? I think we’ve established that you and I have very different temperaments.”

He wasn’t looking at her, just watching the countryside slide by outside the window, and she couldn’t tell how she was supposed to take that.

“Well, after next week you won’t have to put up with me any more,” she said. 

“You’re not that bad. I was thinking, actually...” he trailed off, tapping a finger on his knee.

“You were thinking what?”

“Nothing.”

She couldn’t look at his face, that was what was annoying. She had to watch the road, and he was still half-turned away.

“No, what?”

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

Why did she always ruin  _ everything. _

* * *

 

Anna hadn’t realised how much her enjoyment of the tour had been because of her companion. She’d enjoyed her other tours, but this one had been, well, fun. And now it was all awkward - or was it just her who felt awkward?

Kristoff let her choose where they ate, as usual, and she deliberately chose a restaurant she’d have to drive to so she couldn’t drink. Which was probably overkill, but she'd never been good at moderation. I mean, she was fairly sure she could resist him, but she didn’t trust herself not to say something embarrassing. Not that she needed alcohol to do that.

* * *

 

Kristoff’s hotel room was next to hers, as usual. Outside their doors they hesitated, and Anna fumbled in her pocket for her key. Was she standing a bit too close? To step back would draw attention to it. She put her hand on the door handle. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” she said. “Goodnight.” 

She was sure she saw his eyes flick to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “Goodnight,” he said, and, stepping back, unlocked the door and went into his room.

 

 


	8. Chapter 7 - London

Kristoff had never noticed how many pop songs were about love. Anna sang along to them all, probably not even thinking about the lyrics. He was glad it was only a twenty-minute drive to the railway station. 

He parked on a side road round the corner from the station building. Anna insisted on carrying her cardboard box and pulling her suitcase, but after a hundred yards Kristoff took the box off her, and held it over his head when she tried to take it back.

“You’ll drop it and we’ll miss the train while you pick up all your pink biscuits.”

“Biscuits? Off the floor?”

“All your colouring sheets, then. Your bunting and your bookmarks and the little row of sparkly unicorns you put on your desk.”

“The sparkly unicorns are in my suitcase.”

“You bring that, then. I’ve got this.”

“You don't have to carry my stuff.”

“Well, looks like I did, and we're here now.” 

Anna tutted but she let him hold the box until they were on the train, then reclaimed it to put by her feet. “On the way back when all the biscuits are gone I’ll try and fit everything in my suitcase.”

“That’d probably be easier.” Kristoff took a reading book out of the pocket on his case. “I could eat some of the biscuits now if it’d help.”

Anna elbowed him. “They aren’t for you. I would’ve made you a birthday cake but you didn’t want it.”

“A decision I do regret.”

“Another time. I owe you a cake, okay?”

 

* * *

 

London was busy. The Tube was busy, and the streets, and the bookshop was busy with people who weren’t even there for the signing - though plenty of them stopped in. Kristoff found himself wishing for the days when he’d read to three people and a dog. Anna was in her element, though, not that he’d expected anything else. She chatted and sparkled all afternoon, and if she was slightly more subdued over dinner she still found plenty of conversation (“We should have got tickets for a show! Do you like musicals? I love musicals,” and “When I was little and we came to London we’d always go to the Natural History Museum, will we have time tomorrow to go and see the dinosaurs, do you think?”). 

He wished they did have time to go and see the dinosaurs, or The Lion King, or just to - he didn’t know. Something. Something that would make Anna’s face light up, make her smile. He liked being there when that happened.

 

* * *

 

His hotel room seemed very quiet that evening.

 

* * *

 

The second London signing was the longest yet. Kristoff managed to keep within his time, but Anna ran over, and it was nearly nine by the time they found their seats on the train.

“I think that all went well, don’t you?” she said, pushing her suitcase - now her only piece of luggage - under the table in front of them. 

“Of course. The kids always love you.”

“I meant the whole thing, the whole tour thing.” She leant back into her seat. “Gosh, I'm shattered. How long will this take?”

“The train? Same as yesterday. Bit under an hour.”

Anna sighed. “SO tired.” She got out her phone and started fiddling with it. Kristoff took out his book. 

He was so engrossed he didn't notice the slight pressure on his shoulder, nor when it gradually increased. It wasn’t until Anna snored that he realised she was asleep, cheek pressed against his arm. “Anna,” he said softly, but got no reply. 

Kristoff looked back at his book and tried to keep still. The man sitting opposite waved at him. “Hi, mate? Your girlfriend’s about to drop her phone.”

Anna’s phone was indeed just slipping out of her hand. Kristoff caught it without dislodging her and put it in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said, “but she’s not -” 

The other man had already put his earbuds back in and was reading something on his phone. Anna muttered to herself, nuzzled into Kristoff’s shoulder, and was fast asleep again.

 

* * *

 

“Anna,” Kristoff said again, when they were a few minutes from their station. She didn’t stir, so he gently shook her shoulder

“Mmm?” she said, and sat bolt upright. She screwed up her face, blinked at him, and said “Oh, god, sorry, did I doze off for a minute there? I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t drool on you.”

“You’ve been asleep nearly three-quarters of an hour.”

“No. Really?”

“Yeah. It’s okay. Next stop is us.”

“God, how embarrassing,” Anna said vaguely. “Where’s my phone?”

He handed it to her. “You were about to drop it.”

“Thanks. What would I do without you, hmm.” She looked at her phone and flicked through her notifications. “I have fallen asleep on trains and missed my stop - I don’t know. A non-zero amount, Elsa would say. I shouldn’t be allowed out on my own. I can’t believe I fell asleep on you, but it was much comfier than having your head on the window - are we here? Well, that certainly made the time pass, anyway.”

 

* * *

 

Anna managed to stay awake on the short drive to her door. Kristoff took her suitcase out of the car boot and put it neatly by the front door of her building. Anna fiddled with her keys.

 

“Well,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets “I’ll see you next week - oh, no, I guess I won’t.” Of course he’d known it was coming, but it seemed to have happened a lot faster than he’d realised. He had no reason, on paper, to see her ever again.

“I guess not,” Anna said. She didn’t go inside, though. She stood by the door and bit her lip, like she was waiting for something.

“I mean, unless -”

“Unless?”

“We could….” he hesitated.

“...drive out to the provinces and read the first chapter of our books at each other?”

“Yes, or - we could skip that part.” He took a deep breath. “And just get dinner.”

Anna nodded. “Can I just check something, quickly?”

“Of course, yes?” 

Anna stepped forward, took his face in her hands and kissed him on the lips. Unlike the last time she’d kissed him, this was surer, more considered, and after a minute she pulled back with a sigh. 

“Mmm. Yes. Just as I thought,” she said, and smiled. “That sounds lovely. Saturday?”

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 8 - Home

_ Six months later _

 

“I’m doing some washing,” Anna said, putting her head round the door. “I’m wearing my last pair of pants. Do you have anything to go in?”

“I thought you were going to go home today? Not that I want you to,” Kristoff added quickly. “But you said you’d probably stay until Tuesday.”

“Yeah, I…” she sighed. “I guess I should.”

“I mean, you can stay as long as you like.”

“Careful,” Anna said, hugging her armful of laundry, “Or you’ll end up stuck with me, and you’d never get any writing done.”

She left and headed for the kitchen and the washing machine. Kristoff got up from his desk and followed her. “Actually, Anna,” he said.

“Well, give it here and I’ll put it in.”

“What?”

“What? If you have some laundry, give it here.”

“No, not about that,” he continued. “I was thinking. Of getting one of those shed office things, you know. In the garden. Then you could have my study, to write in. When you move in. I mean, if you wanted to. Or not, obviously it’s up to you -”

Anna looked at her feet, then smiled up at him. “That sounds like a good plan.”

He looked relieved. “Okay. Good. I’ll, look into that, then, at some point -”

Anna held up the bottle of fabric conditioner. “I bought this.”

“Yes? I know.”

She poured a generous slug into the drawer on the washer. “I mean, I’m just saying that it’s possible I live here already.”

“I - hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Me neither, until just now. Not really.”

She switched the machine on and turned back to him. “Does it sound weird to say your house always felt like home? Right from when I first saw it. It wasn’t what I was expecting, and - I don’t know.” She looked round the kitchen and smiled at the vase of flowers on the table. “It just needed cheering up a bit.”

“Did it.”

“Mmm.” She flung her arms round his neck and kissed him. 

“Kristoff,” she said when they parted.

“Yes?”

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think we should get a dog.”


End file.
